108 Names of My Shadow

 August baked us in, the end of summer on the little island.

Just the other day Armani had to run to his multi-million dollar all black boat because a mile away the island was on fire. Maybe arson. Probably. Not the first time. It made the international fucking news that Armani had to make a move, though he was never in any danger by any measure. This little fire would have never made any news, even local news, otherwise.

On the other hand I am still living on Pantelleria and I think about the void, about the death of one of my old Teachers, from Japan.. A sudden dark hole I have to shuffle into the light.

108 names of my shadow

i am ojibwe, part catbwa/edisto, celtic, possibly Mediterranean, which is itself another pot of mixed races. I figure I have the blood of 108 races rolling around in my DNA. I am not sure, beyond base curiosity, what the value of such information is. I am part ghost if you ask around. Nobody claims people like me. We have to do the work and claim ourselves. If the work is true then you would get a true result, as one would expect. Right? I did that work and there it was.

is it all in my hands

or is it deep under the ground

perhaps floating in the sky like a cloud

could I make that ground shake

or those clouds bring rain

with what I have

all that I have

in my empty hands 

in this Silence?

Let’s yell at the ocean for being wet

at the stones for being so hard

let’s spit into the wind to honour the past

they tell us it all comes back and repeats itself

that nameless voice quoted from the void

the emptiest voice in the room

and the most sacred, another child of the silence

Here at the center of the universe...

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